Oh Good God. Here we are, in Denver. Passed the perimeter and through all of the security checkpoints–it’s sort of like the airport TSA’s, only with bigger dudes and more guns.
And so I found my perch inside the Pepsi Center for this Democratic Convention. It’s up in the 300 level, but I’m not complaining. If you’ve been to a Blazer game you know in these new arenas there aren’t too many bad seats.
Howard Dean is on stage now, but for the most part, things are pretty slow. Most of the arena is empty. He just designated someone “Sergeant at Arms” for the convention and it begs the question: how often do the archaic rules and methods need to be updated?
Dean is running through all kinds of silly procedural rules. “Do I hear a second? Hearing no argument… blah blah blah.” I think he’s so ready to plow through these things if someone did argue a nomination he might just unknowingly speed on by.
But I wont sit here and tell you this thing is boring–it’s just that there’s more action outside the main arena. There’re all kinds of news heavies and Congressmen wandering the long halls of the Pepsi Center. Sometimes they’re chocking down greasy hot dogs, that is, in between flurries of Blackberrying. Oh, and George Stephanopolis is small enough to fit in a baby carrying sling. Good Lord–that’s how he ought to do his commentary: swinging from a baby satchel hanging from a big man’s chest.
Howard Dean just introduced Nancy Pelosi as Convention chair. A little burst of applause but quickly we’re back to rules and regulations. Now the parliamentarian is jabbering.
For the duration of the Convention, beer sales in the arena have been cut off. I know, right? This is entertainment just like anything else, and a good cold beer (brewed with frost brewed rocky mountain water) could only enhance the spectacle. Really a crying shame.
Alright. Feeling as if there’s no end to the amount of trouble and opportunity I might find here, it’s time to wander.
TSA = totally standing around
Ex-cellent!